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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30043158">step into that orange light</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/feints/pseuds/suganii'>suganii (feints)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Gen, Post-Timeskip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:47:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30043158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/feints/pseuds/suganii</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>3 times Udai Tenma runs into other little giants, and 1 time a former little giant finds him.</p><blockquote>
  <p>He wonders if Ukai had always been able to see him this clearly. Wonders that if he could see his younger self now, what he would say.</p>
  <p>Perhaps nothing, really. That Tenma would not have even paid him a second glance, too intent on bearing his own Sisyphean stone. Tenma glances down at the court and thinks of Hinata being able to see the finish line where he couldn’t. The winner’s circle, where he couldn’t.</p>
  <p>Perhaps he isn’t completely satisfied, after all. Perhaps Tenma isn’t completely done with volleyball.</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Little Giant Week 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>step into that orange light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for the prompts: rivalry, small giant, ace, fate and volleyball.</p><p> </p><p><i>people are meant to dream and be moved</i><br/><i>jump, my heart, like it hurts.</i><br/>-PHOENIX, BURNOUT SYNDROMES.<br/>(title also taken from phoenix)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>ONE.</p><p>The coach has not stopped staring at Tenma for the past minute. Tenma shuffles from one foot to another, the chill of the air that brushes against his sweat-soaked shirt and skin, the ache in his knees and quads, the soreness of his toes all brought into sharp relief as heavy as the weight of the coach’s gaze, but Tenma does not back away. It is not in his nature to back away.</p><p>He has earned the right to be respected this way, he thinks.</p><p>He is the ace of Karasuno. More importantly, he has just helped his team defeat Shiratorizawa—the <em>champions</em> of Miyagi—and won them a ticket to Nationals. As far as anyone is concerned, it’s the first time in Karasuno’s history that they’ve done so—though Tenma checked the records and Karasuno has actually been to Nationals seven times before, they certainly haven’t done so for over thirty years so to Tenma’s mind, it still amounts to about the same thing anyway.</p><p>There will be ample time for celebrations and maybe even <em>yakiniku</em> later, if they’re lucky. Tenma is already drawing up his own plan of practice for the minute they get back, knowing they can hardly afford to rest on their laurels now.</p><p>He is the ace of Karasuno. Tenma grounds himself in that knowledge, envisioning a heavy yoke on his shoulders and squaring them, standing upright. The rival coach, an old man with beady eyes and a hunching back, points out several individual weaknesses and flaws of Tenma’s team. He calls Tenma strong, a worthy player to lead them.</p><p>What was it that Coach Ukai called him? He still has not stopped staring. Tenma wonders if there’s something he sees that Tenma doesn’t—maybe not a flaw since he hasn’t hesitated to point any out himself, and most of which Tenma even privately agrees with.</p><p>So perhaps it is the potential of one?</p><p>Finally, their debriefing ends and Tenma jogs with his team back to Ukai’s side.</p><p>“Hey, coach,” he asks, right before Ukai tells them to go through with their cool-down exercises. Ukai cocks his head in his direction, so Tenma takes it as permission to continue. “What’s the name of the coach over there? The head coach from Shiratorizawa?”</p><p>“Oh, Coach Washijo?”</p><p>Ukai’s eyes turn sharp as he regards Tenma, totally different from Coach Washijo’s eagle eyed stare earlier, but just as intense. “Did he say anything?”</p><p>“Not… really…” Tenma runs a hand through his hair and admits, “He wouldn’t stop looking at me though.”</p><p>“Ah.” Ukai clucks his tongue. “Don’t worry yourself over it, boy. Washijo is always like that with short players.”</p><p><em>A fan of little giants, then</em>? Tenma can see it. Perhaps Washijo had even been one himself.</p><p>He resolves to look up Washijo’s name later, just in case. For now, he goes through with his stretches. They’re one step closer to their dream of winning the Nationals trophy.</p><p>He will not jeopardise this opportunity. Not for anything.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>TWO.</p><p>Years later, Tenma is greeted with an old ghost of a name.</p><p><em>Little giant</em>, Hinata Shōyō calls him. Tenma doesn’t remember the last time he was called that—most of the memories of the times when he had are by now firmly buried six feet under; dust collecting on the shelves of his childhood home right beside his various volleyball-related medals and accolades, whatever few of them there were.</p><p>To hear that he’s actually inspired other players to follow in his footsteps is another revelation that Tenma can only marvel at. It doesn’t touch him as it might’ve had once. Volleyball is well and truly over for him, he thinks.</p><p>It doesn’t explain why he’s here, though, back in this gymnasium smelling of familiar Air Salonpas; why he half-ran, half-jogged all the way here from his campus in Shibuya on foot (he still has the stamina for it and it saves on fare really, but he could’ve sidestepped the whole issue by not coming at all). It’s not like Tenma tears up, he isn’t pulled under by a sweeping crescendo of emotion, but he does feel <em>something.</em> It slides down the slippery slope of nostalgia, topped with just a pinch of bitterness and longing, and the very slightest sensation of what tastes like fulfilment.</p><p>Throughout the tournament, he hears more talk of <em>little giants </em>than he has ever had in his life. There’s no need to unlock his sarcophagus of dust after all; it’s no longer his burden to bear, really.</p><p>Tenma’s no longer tied down to this place. Maybe that was why he’d come here—to prove that he wasn’t. To see for himself that Karasuno was performing so well even without him.</p><p>Tenma reunites with old barely friends but not quite acquaintances, and watches the boy he’d inspired leap and fight, fly and soar suspended. He watches, letting the old stream of critique that used to roar so loud in his head roll by, and eventually he learns from Saeko that without him, Hinata might have never even touched volleyball.</p><p><em>That would be a shame</em>, he ponders, <em>since he clearly loves it so much</em>. Tenma will have to accept that he’s capable of inspiring such intense admiration, but it soothes him to know that he has.</p><p>All the same, passion can never make up for preparation. Over-preparation can suffocate a seedling—roots on the rocks, unable to find purchase in deep soil. Under-preparation can do that too, leaving a seedling sprout to be felled by the wayside and picked up by wandering fowl. Hinata Shōyō, he notes, is the latter.</p><p>He wonders if Ukai had always been able to see him this clearly. Wonders that if he could see his younger self now, what he would say.</p><p>Perhaps nothing, really. <em>That</em> Tenma would not have even paid him a second glance, too intent on bearing his own Sisyphean stone. Tenma glances down at the court and thinks of Hinata being able to see the finish line where he couldn’t. The winner’s circle, where he couldn’t.</p><p>Perhaps he isn’t completely satisfied, after all. Perhaps Tenma isn’t completely done with volleyball.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>THREE.</p><p>Despite his better judgment, Tenma begs sick from his morning literature classes the next day and heads instead right back to the Tokyo Metropolitan Gym. This time, there’s no one for him to greet—he hadn’t expected anyone to anyway, not when Karasuno had lost.</p><p>Yesterday might have been for Tenma, former ace of Karasuno; the small, unforeseen stage where he’d taken his final graceful bow.</p><p>Today, he’s here for himself—Udai Tenma, upcoming Waseda graduate, here because he still likes volleyball. Despite his better judgment, he’s sustained just the slightest bit of curiosity. It isn’t for any boy-pupil he’d spawned exactly. Instead, it’s someone who reminds him a little of himself, and he’s not sure if that makes it better or worse.</p><p>He takes a seat anyway, making sure he’s at least half an hour early so he can get one of the good ones near the rails and in full view of the centre court. It’s a place he’d never had occasion to step in, but he thinks it's fitting that <em>Hoshiumi</em> <em>Kourai </em>does.</p><p>The boy lives and breathes the sport, and Tenma could write haikus about the stunning accuracy of his form when he’s perched in flight, his hands posed in mid-air, the run up perfect just about. Better yet, Tenma could just draw him. Perhaps, he thinks, fingers twitching madly, gripping the edge of his seat, he could capture this.</p><p>Tenma relaxes into the black-cushioned seats as around him people whisper, murmur, say the <em>Little Giant’s</em> name. The epithet leaves his lips too, in a breathy sigh. It’s every lurch within his chest whenever Hoshiumi spikes, or jumps up to serve. It’s in every hummingbird pulse, following Kamomedai’s campaign on court with dedicated fervour. Tenma’s lips curl around the words and he exhales them like a benediction. Maybe it is.</p><p>He doesn’t know if he could have given birth to a star such as this. Still, Tenma would like to reach for his own glow of haloed light, to make a wish and see it come true. He yells the <em>Little Giant</em>’s name, cheers long and loud, and for one heart-stopping beat in the lull of a timeout, Hoshiumi locks gazes with him in the crowd. Tenma doesn’t move, doesn’t blink as slightly, so slightly, Hoshiumi inclines his head.</p><p>It’s probably nothing. For Udai Tenma, the boy who still, in fact, does like volleyball, it’s looking into the face of a rising sun.</p><p>After this, Tenma will return to his whirlwind life, his career and his graduation and his future, a road paved in stone ahead of him. He has no place on this grand climax, but he hopes a little of that luck will rub off on him anyway.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>+ONE.</p><p>Ever since Meteo Attack’s publication in Weekly Shounen Vie, from time to time Tenma has received letters from fans—usually politely saddled with questions, or containing sincere well-wishes. Such letters have only increased in traffic ever since Tenma had announced, a few months back, that he was planning to wrap up the series. Occasionally his editor Oikawa Takeru would rifle through the pile, taking pains to read through some to ensure there wasn’t anything too inflammatory in their pages.</p><p>There really are more of them than Tenma often knows what to do with, but he <em>does</em> have a set of drawers that he puts several of his most cherished fan-mail in, to comfort himself by on particularly gloomy days. It’s Tenma’s physical proof of his success and it motivates him back to the grind, pushing against his Herculean stone, striving to make something worthy of meaning.</p><p>Of these, one of his most treasured ones lies on top of the collection. It had arrived a week ago in a nondescript brown envelope, and Tenma had nearly set it aside to save for reading later. That was, except the address on the envelope had caught his eye. <em>To the little giant</em>, it read.</p><p>Tenma doesn’t know a lot of people who still recognise him in that way, not when it’s been almost two decades and he no longer lives in Miyagi. It had taken even Akaashi some time before he believed him, and Tenma had been younger then.</p><p>Tenma had glanced at the pages ready for colouring on his desk, and then back to the letter. He cleared his throat, took a quick peek at Takeru two tables down, and then of course he reached for it. Fingers tracing along the short edges of brown paper, he had opened the envelope up to find a simple white sheet sliding out, neatly folded in half.</p><p>Tenma takes the paper out now, turns it over, unfolds it and skims the first few lines.</p><p>It’s written by a strong, steady hand. Tenma didn’t recognise it—still doesn’t, but of course, why would he? His eyes fall on the words, and his heart gives an aching jolt all over again. It settles into a comfortable pattern as he loses himself to the words.</p><p><em>Dear Udai-sensei,</em> he reads, <em>I am writing this letter to let you know my most heartfelt admiration for this new series you have penned, Meteo Attack.</em></p><p>
  <em>I have been a fan of your work for some time. The struggles of your protagonist, Hoshihito Akitomo, are like an echo chamber of the things that I myself have experienced growing up in a fairly competitive sport such as volleyball.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Truthfully told, I’ve known of you ever since your high school days. It was you who showed me that volleyball was something I could do and be proud of, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for that. Seeing Hoshihito undergo his own struggles, though I don’t think I’ll ever be able to relate to the fear of setting things on fire, I’m reminded of why I fought as hard as I did then. Why I’m fighting as hard as I am today.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your work is unparalleled, if only because it portrays the joys of this sport in a way that almost feels irresistible. You have made this sport accessible to so many little kids across the nation who will read this, and feel like picking up a volleyball one day too. You have opened their hearts to love, and that is what my team and I have been striving to do every day.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I once aspired to take up the ‘little giant’ mantle, like you did, and although that path is closed to me now, I am still grateful. May your work continue to inspire curiosity, wonder and jubilation for kids in generations to come.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sincerely,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nakashima Takeru, Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets Libero</em>
</p><p>
  <em>NT Libero Japan, 2028</em>
</p><p>In two weeks, Meteo Attack will finish publication. Tenma intends for it to coincide with the very start of the Olympics, and he knows who he’ll be watching when the time comes.</p><p>He clutches the letter to his chest, sniffing down a few discreet tears. Life hadn’t turned out exactly as he’d imagined at the age of seventeen, still an ace of Karasuno, still a fool for volleyball, but as he’s learnt over the years, the things he’s lost will one day find him again.</p><p>He can’t wait for what the next day will bring.</p><p> </p>
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